


Miscommunication

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: Miscommunication [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Miscommunication, Self-Worth Issues, Surprise Kissing, everybody's making assumptions and you know what they say about assumptions, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Patton and Virgil are dating. Virgil is, apparently, the last to know about this.





	Miscommunication

in hindsight, Virgil felt like an idiot.

it goes like this; he was tired and feeling soft around the edges. the light in the kitchen was dim, only the one bulb above the stove on. Patton, humming softly while stirring something that smelled fantastic, was leaning on him just a little, their sides pressed together. Virgil, for once, didn’t feel like the world was out to get him.

so, of course, he had to ruin it.

“I love you,” he hummed out, and it took Patton tensing like a strung bow for him to even realize what he said.

he snapped his head up, stuttering out some kind of explanation, a joke, a misdirection,  _anything_ -

but Patton was beaming, snatching his hands up and saying “I love you, too, Verge! so much!”

Virgil let out a whoosh of breath. Patton misunderstood. crisis averted.

Yeah. There was really nobody to blame but himself.

Patton practically glowed for the next couple of weeks. he looked at Virgil like he hung the moon, and took every opportunity to tell him how much he loved him, loved him  _so much_  Virgil, you have no idea-

And maybe Virgil felt a little, well, greedy, soaking up all the attention. Patton was trying so hard to make up for all the time Virgil was alone, and he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. it was only a matter of time before Patton decided the deficit had been repaid, and all of this came to an end.

so he didn’t pull away when Patton’s took his hand, or tucked his head in Virgil’s neck, or resolutely pulled Virgil into the circle of his arms during movie nights. Virgil collected the affection like fireflies in a jar, and insistently clamped down on the part of his heart that wished it meant as much to Patton as it did to him.

it was after one such movie night that it blew up. Logan had long since gone to bed, somewhere during the second or third film, and the main menu of the fourth was blinking blue in the darkened living room. Roman was making something in the kitchen, mugs clinking on the counter and microwave - hot chocolate? tea, maybe? - but Virgil had his forehead pressed to Pattons cheek and didn’t want to move to look.

“Hey, Verge?” Patton said quietly.

“yeah, Pat?” he rasped, his croaky voice making him realize he had been silent since the movies started hours ago.

“can i kiss you?”

Pattons forehead kisses were treasured in the mindscape, and not just by him - he’d seen roman grin like he’s been given a crown upon receiving one, and Logan generally responded with a blush so fierce it surpassed puce. Virgil smiled a bit and nodded. “yeah, sure,”

the absolute last thing he expected - not  _even_ the last thing, it wasn’t on the list at all - was for Patton to grin and cup his jaw and kiss him square on the mouth.

Later, Virgil will wish he had the ability to roll with the punches. That he’d just… gone with it, at least for a second, because what follows is probably the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done.

He yelled, like a small dog that’s been stepped on, and launched himself off the couch. his elbow dug into Patton’s shoulder as he shoved off him and he heard him hiss in pain. not even a second had passed, and Virgil was clear on the other side of the room, approximately 1/3 of the way towards hyperventilating.

Roman came in from the kitchen, his blue mug held awkwardly by the cup part and not the handle, like he’d forgotten it was in his hand. Virgil found himself hyperfocusing on this small detail - why was he holding it like that to begin with? was he stirring something? - like some kind of defense mechanism to distract him from the background noise of his brain just… screaming incoherently in confusion.

“What happened?” Roman said incredulously, looking between a shaking Virgil and a stricken-looking Patton on opposite sides of the room.

“I’m so sorry!” said Patton, “are you okay? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have rushed you, i should have let you initiate it-”

“Easy, Padre, you gotta let him talk,”

Virgil made a strangled noise somewhere between a drowning bird and a deflating balloon.

Romans mouth twitched.

“And  _you_ actually have to talk,” he said.

“Why-,” his voice cracked, and he started over. “W-why did you kiss me?”

“I- I said i was going to, Verge, i don’t understand-,”

“i thought you meant on the forehead!” Virgil choked, his hands flailing, “i didn’t know you meant-,”

“wait a minute,  _that’s_ what happened?” said Roman dubiously. “Virgil, you’ve been dating for weeks, it’s hardly that big of a deal,”

Virgil’s face flamed so hot he could have sworn he was sizzling. he covered his face with his sleeves.

“We’re not dating,” he choked, mortified.

There was a long, heavy pause.

“… We’re not?” said Patton, in the smallest voice Virgil had ever heard.

Virgil looked at them through his fingers, baffled.

“No?” he said.

“yes, you are,” said Roman, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “clearly,”

“I- what are you talking about?” said Virgil, although some horrified part of his subconscious was started to put together the pieces and oh god this was  _not_ happening-

“what on earth are you all screaming about at one in the morning?” grumbled logan from the top of the stairs, looking distinctly put out about being woken up.

“Oh, you’re going to love this, Specs,” said Roman, not taking his eyes off Virgil, “Winnie the Blue here says that he and Patton aren’t dating.”

Logan’s face scrunched in confusion. he paused for a long moment.

“No, ” he said finally, “i dont get it. Can you explain the joke?”

“It’s not a joke!” Virgil managed to strangle out, because if he was this stupid, he was going to die of embarrassment, he was sure of it.

“You exchange both physical and verbal demonstrations of affection that you reserve only for each other, as well as spend extended amounts of time solely in each others company, which follows the typical definition of the term ‘dating,’” said Logan. “of course it is a joke. I am not an expert in expressions of emotion but i am not completely hopeless,”

“You-” Virgil looked between Roman and Logan, who were looking at him like he’d genuinely lost his mind, and then Patton, who had hardly spoken at all.

Patton. Patton looked  _gutted_.

“Are- Are we dating?” said Virgil incredulously.

“I-,” said Patton hesitantly, “I- I  _thought_ we were, you- you said you  _loved_ me Virgil, and then I said it back and i thought- I thought you-,”

Virgil wanted to go back in time and punch his own self-worth issues in the teeth.

“oh my god,” he groaned, humiliated, covering his face with his hands again.

“I’m so sorry,” said Patton, “I shouldn’t have assumed, I should have said something-”

“I cannot believe,” Virgil said through his fingers, “that i have spent all my time wishing i was dating you  _while actually dating you_ ,”

“..oh,”

“…And, that would be our cue to exit,” said Roman, moving to usher Logan back up the stairs. “move along, Neil DeGawk Tyson,”

“wait,” said Logan, sounding, for the first time Virgil could remember, genuinely baffled, “you mean to tell me he  _actually_ did not know-,”

“Move  _along_ ,” Roman said, tapping logan on the back insistently. Logan’s tones of disbelief followed them all the way back down the upstairs hallway.

Virgil wanted to look at Patton, to reassure, him, but it took several long moments before he could even bear to move his hands from his face. when he did, he stared resolutely at the floor.

“Patton?” he said apprehensively, “are you mad?”

“I-I’m not mad,” Patton said a little thickly. “I’m really not. I… i feel a little st-” he cleared his throat firmly, “-a little silly-,”

“You’re  _not_ ,” insisted Virgil, still not quite able to look at Patton but focused on the wall just above his left ear, “ _I’m_ stupid, it should have been obvious, but i just thought you-, i thought you misunderstood me, the first time, like you thought i meant it in a friend way, and then i thought  _you_ meant it in a friend way-,”

“so you  _didn’t_ mean it in a friend way?” Patton blurted.

Virgil did look at him then, and was surprised to realize that, without any input from him, his feet had carried him almost all the way across the room. Patton was within arm’s reach, wringing his hands and looking at Virgil with tremulous, cautious hope.

“No, I- I- didn’t mean it in a friend way,” he croaked.

Patton’s eyes softened in what could only be described as adoration - how,  _how_ had he not seen it, he was as dense as a  _brick_ \- and Virgil couldn’t stop himself from folding back into Patton’s space, almost like he never left.

Patton squeezed him maybe a bit too tight, but Virgil was surely going to leave wrinkles in Patton’s shirt from the white-knuckled grip he had on the shoulder, so he figured it was a fair trade.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, and it didn’t feel like even close to enough.

He felt Pattons jaw twitch into an uncharacteristically wry smile.

“You know, I think we might have a communication problem,”

Virgil snorted, and Patton huffed a half hearted laugh into Virgil’s neck where he had hidden his face.

Virgil gripped Patton’s shirt so tightly his knuckles cracked, and decided if he had already gone over his whole stupid quota for the day anyway he might as well keep going.

“Patton?”

“yeah?”

“Can-,” he breathed sharply through his nose, and out through his mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

Patton looked up and rested their foreheads together, grinning.

“On the mouth?” he said playfully.

Virgil’s face flamed up again. “Yes,”

“Then yes,” he said softly.

Virgil has to admit, kisses go way better when you don’t elbow your partner in the collarbone.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk about sanders sides with me at tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com


End file.
